have some valentines day fluff (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧
“Right.” The guy clears his throat. “I’m Stiles.”
Derek snorts. “Did she bully you into picking a ridiculous name, too?”
Stiles gives him an indignant look. “It’s my real name actually. Well, not my real name real name,” he amends when Derek raises a judgmental eyebrow. “But trust me, you don’t want to know my legal first name. Over twenty years and my Dad still can’t pronounce it correctly. Hell, I’m not even sure I can pronounce it correctly, it’s a fucking monstrosity. Also, Miguel, you don’t have much room to talk, because I’m pretty sure you’re not actually of Spanish descent.”
Derek doesn’t see how Valentine’s Day can get any better than a normal day with Stiles.
According to legend, the historical St. Valentine was a 3rd-century priest who performed marriages for couples forbidden to wed under Roman Law.
According to another legend, Derek Hale is a die-hard romantic.
“He invited you to his apartment.”
“To do a lesson plan.”
“Yeah and to probably lesson your plan while you’re there,” Scott said, waggling his eyebrows.
“That made no sense, but you still managed to make it sound dirty,” Stiles said. “I’m impressed.”
"Stiles leaves his red sweatshirt in the washer and turns all of Derek’s underwear pink.
A romantic comedy ensues.”
“It’s so commercialist, and all it does is bring people down who don’t have a special someone.”
“Are you two seriously discussing your hatred of Valentine’s Day when a man with a gun is walking around the store?”
Stiles is a paramedic and Derek gets into a bike accident.
It’s kind of love at first sight.
Stiles is pretty used to people coming to visit him at Sweet Stuff when he’s baking. It’s only when Isaac starts bringing along one Derek Hale that things start to get really interesting.
“Where’s my Bro-rose, Stilinski?” Erica inquires, narrowing her eyes dangerously, and Stiles can only do so much not to run away screaming.
And while Stiles is busy coming up with an excuse, Scott answers, “He gave it to Derek.”
Stunned silence settles for a moment, and Stiles knows it’s hopeless, even as he insists, “Yes, I gave Derek a Bro-rose.”
They all snort in unison, and—no. Just. No.
On February thirteenth, Stiles comes home to find a bright red envelope taped to the center of his apartment door.
Stiles receives a box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day. Unfortunately, the chocolates end up containing trace amounts of love potion.
Peter decides a love potion and a truth potion hidden in chocolates are the best way to get Derek and Stiles to admit how they feel about each other. It was the perfect plan. Except the chocolates got mixed up. And then eaten by Derek and Stiles all at once…
This in itself would not be the worst thing Peter has had to deal with.
But now Derek isn’t so much running his fingers down Stiles’ arm as he is counting the moles. Literally. For the third time in fifteen minutes, Derek dots each mole, follows it with an Eskimo kiss, and says “One sexy mole for Derek. Two sexy moles for Derek.” And so on.
You can see the problem.
Everybody has a date for Valentine’s Day except for Stiles and Derek. Stiles proposes an anti-Valentine’s Day celebration, but Derek has other plans.